***

  Falco watched Finn over the ship’s wheel as he tied off the last balloon down on the deck. He let the hydrogen blow it to the proper size then fastened it to a rope together with the others. He kept the floating balloons from escaping by biting down on the rope while he closed the valve on the hydrogen tank.

  Falco chuckled to himself. The kid had found the pack of party balloons inside what Finn called a ‘camper’ during their last supply run. The ever sensitive Finn had felt bad about looting the place but Falco had reassured him that the previous owners wouldn’t mind, their bones were showing after all. Finn still acted queasy around skeletons, the poor boy.

  The bad conscience didn’t last long however, as the inventive kid started practicing his new key with the balloons. The colorful balloons looked a bit silly to be military gear Falco thought. But Finn had assured him they were really meant for parties and festivities, and that he had merely repurposed them for target-practice.

  Finn released the balloons and they scattered in every direction, buffeted by the wind. He aimed at them by holding his hand out straight and resting his head on his shoulder. Using the space between his thumb and index finger as a sight he fired off multiple spikes in quick succession. Most, if not all, missed.

  “Smaller, Finn, make them even smaller.”

  “I’m trying! Don’t distract me.”

  Falco grinned. The kid had no aim whatsoever. But he was learning how to control his key at a rapid pace. He had a knack for that. By Falco’s estimation the boy could fire off about ten or so spikes in an hour before he grew too tired. If only he could make the spikes smaller and not waste so much mass. Everyone always wanted a projectile key with a metal aspect. The thing they never considered was how heavy metal could be. The denser the material the fewer projectiles you could produce. Luckily for Finn he had one of the lighter metals with his titanium aspect.

  Falco would’ve preferred a lighter material himself, perhaps bone, or some kind of glass. Not that he wanted a silver key though, he only used bronze keys. It wasn’t that he had never had the chance to acquire one for himself, he had heard a silver key call out to him every now and then just like everyone else. It was just that he knew why all the other people thought no one could understand what the voices were saying. So he stayed away.

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  Finn let the rope drop and watched with a dejected look as the balloons flew off on their merry way, intact. The smile returned to Falco’s face. He knew their destination would cheer him up. Falco almost looked forward to Finn’s reaction more than his own. It was a bit intoxicating to travel with someone so optimistic and easy to impress.

  “Haha! Don’t you worry, my friend. With practice and time the beggar becomes the king!”

  Finn peered at him with a sullen look. “That makes no sense, Falco.”

  He must really be down on himself, Falco thought. “It’s just an expression,” Falco said, and he couldn’t help but be a bit sullen as well. With an effort, Falco shook off the downward mood. He banked the ship off to the starboard side and they traveled through a thick cloud down towards the earth. The ship shook in a slight turbulence and the sails collected condensation from the water vapor.

  The ship sailed out of the clouds and the turbulence ceased. Brilliant rays of sunlight lit up the ship and the terrain far below them. Falco righted the ship again but let it keep on falling.

  “Go look over the railing, my boy. What do you see?”

  Finn hesitated, and he had the look of someone who wanted to continue sulking, but curiosity once again got the better of him and he rushed over.

  “What the hell—,” he drew out the last word into one long syllable. “Wow! What is that?” He looked up at Falco in disbelief, whose only answer was laughter. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What’s making all that smoke?”

  “It’s steam, not smoke,” said Falco, walking over to have a look as well.

  A vast sinkhole covered up most of the forest filled landscape below. The cliff sides of the hole went for miles upon miles in each direction before circling back around and meeting up. It was so vast the mountainous regions to the north and east looked tiny in comparison. Two giant lakes on either side of the sinkhole bordered over the cliffs of the hole and created a waterfall the size of a glacier. Almost half the cliff sides were turned into neverending waterfalls by the cascading water.

  The water fell at least a mile down, but it was hard to tell exactly how far the cliffs extended down because a column of steam came billowing up from the depths of the sinkhole, obscuring everything but the cliffs, waterfalls and half of the sinkhole facing them. The other half and any sign of the bottom of the hole was completely hidden behind white foggy steam.

  “So there’s probably lava or something on the bottom? And the water is coming in from those big lakes over the side. That’s what’s creating all that smoke, or steam rather?”

  “I think so, lad, but your guess is as good as mine.”

  Finn stared at the marvel for a long time. He turned and walked up the staircase to join Falco at the helm. “I mean, it’s cool and all, but what does it mean? What are we doing here?”

  Falco smiled. “That down there, my young friend,” he gestured downward, “is one step closer— to home!”